Father Sebastian
by shinrin-no-ookami
Summary: One-shot story. It shouldn't contradict Supernatural canon nor real-world time/locations. Mentions two canon characters but the story itself isn't really about them, it's just set in the same world. Warning: The tone of the story is a bit dark. A murdered family is found and a mildly graphic description of the death scene is included.


This is my first story here. I have a friend who posts frequently and I sometimes guess at where her stories will go next or toss out ideas when we're talking. The story I'm presenting below is the result of one such idea randomly tossed out. She challenged me to write it myself so I took a shot at it. I don't think there's anything in here that would contradict the original story lines. I did a little research into dates used in the show, real world locations that could be used, and real world time line for correlation. The story is told through a few flashbacks to give voice to the present tense (set in 1993). To help keep the timeline of events straight I put a date at the top and experimented a bit with a more graphical timeline layout to give a sense how far back the time jump was. I hope you find the story enjoyable and I'd love to hear feedback. With that, I present to you the story of Father Sebastian.

 **==================================================[1993]**

The old brown paneled, white 971 Ford Country Squire station wagon was, amazingly, still in good running condition in spite of being roughly 22 years old. It wasn't pretty nor was it anything approaching fast but it was reliable and ran relatively quietly. Sebastian knew a little about maintaining it, enough for small roadside repairs, but had a close friend who was an incredible mechanic who did the real work of keeping it road-worthy.

Father Sebastian Gael, as he was known to the community of Donahue, Iowa, was much-respected and had no shortage of help. It was a small community numbering just over 300 people and Father Gael had married many couples and christened many babies. What far fewer people knew, perhaps only a handful in town, was the equally important service Father Gael fulfilled keeping the town safe from things that went bump in the night.

It was night now and the old Ford came to a thankfully quiet stop well short of the driveway to an apparently abandoned farm house. Father Sebastian cautiously left the vehicle being careful not to slam the door before moving quietly but purposefully towards the barn behind the house. In his right hand he held a battered, well-read bible and in the left plastic super-soaker toy gun. The brightly colored toy gun was definitely out of place but it had served him well. Further adding to the oddity of his appearance was a deep leather pouch hanging from his right hip with its drawstring already loosed and the top gaping open for easy access. All taken he looked halfway the respectable reverend but also halfway to being an oversized kid ready some strange game.

Sebastian wasn't your typical hunter. Statistically speaking being a hunter was anything but normal to begin with but Sebastian was a very specialized hunter. He'd heard of plenty of unusual things such as lycanthropes and witches and he'd even helped the odd hunter or two with their hunts but Sebastian's hunting skills were focused almost exclusively to a single prey. Owing to his faith he worked best stopping the depredations of demons. There were a few other nasties that reacted to faith but they were fewer and further between in his experience.

Sebastian carefully avoided the crunch of stepping on the gravel driveway that led to the house and crossed the grass onto the quieter dirt path that led to the barn. In the distance he could see that one large door was slightly ajar and a dim light flickered within. It reminded him of another encounter from long into his past.

 **=====[1974]==============================================**

Though it had been nearly two decades earlier the situation before had also involved a barn much like the one he would later approach. This barn, too, held a flickering light as if from candles or a storm lamp somewhere inside beyond doors slightly ajar. This was a time before Sebastian's initiation into the world of hunters and the creatures they hunted and he had no idea what would be in store for him this night He knew only that he had come to call on a parish family in need. They had an incurably sick child and death was near. Despite the time of night they had called and asked for his blessings in these final hours and, in spite of the lateness, he had readily acquiesced. The solemn drive had been painful enough but no where near as shockingly painful as what he was about to find beyond the gaping door to the main house.

Finding the door to the house wide open and no lights on inside Sebastian was immediately concerned. Had they fled to the small clinic run by Doc Willard? No, the beat up old Chevy truck was still in the driveway. Sebastian cautiously made his way into the house calling out for the family. As he reached the light switch next to the door his hand brushed a wall that was oddly sticky. There was also an odd, coppery scent to the air that was definitely out of place. When he found the switch and flicked on the lights Sebastian beheld a nightmarish scene. Someone or something had brutally murdered the family. Blood pooled amply across the tile floor and arcs of it streaked every wall and even the ceiling. Distantly he knew he should call Sheriff Wheaton but at that particular moment he was mostly just in shock at the brutality of it all and he stood there dazedly trying to sort the whole situation out. That's when he heard the muffled shouting coming from outside.

Unsure what was going on Sebastian turned and walked slowly towards the sound. The property had once been a sizable farm but it had been parceled off a little at a time and now only the main house and a long-unused barn remained on what was left of the property owned by the family. The shouting was muffled but certainly coming from beyond the barn doors. Shadows danced in the flickering light coming from within. As he came closer the shouts became clearer until he heard the tail end of a heated conversation. "...promised me! I did what you asked and you owe me my reward!".  
An calmly smooth voice answered in a surprising baritone, "You are too hasty, mortal. You do not make demands of me. I'm not some crossroads deal-maker bound to some agreement."  
"What? Whatever. I don't care." The last three words each punctuated individually and aggressively in his tone. "We made a deal. They're dead. I want what you promised. You can't-" the loud complaint broke off in a sudden, bone-chilling scream.

Sebastian peered around the door and beheld an odd scene. Simon, he recognized, a sometime farmhand who worked through several nearby farms. He took on odd jobs and he'd heard the family here had hired him on to help with some local repairs. In retrospect Sebastian recognized the plaintive tones and, now, unyielding scream coming from Simon. Standing directly in front of Simon stood a tall, slender, well-groomed man he'd never seen before. The slender man had his hand lightly on Simon's chest and Simon had his back bowed, his head thrown back, his arms fully extended to his sides and was screaming with everything in him.  
"Mortal, I warned you. You want the powers I have? The powers of a demon? So be it, a demon you shall become."

It was all too much for Sebastian and he took a step back. Unfortunately he brushed the edge of the door as he stepped back and it came back a few inches with him. The door moved easily enough but the rusty hinges also let forth a jarring screech with the movement. The slender man immediately noticed and turned to look at Sebastian. Sebastian met his gaze and stared in to the soulless black depths of a demon's eyes for the first time. For his part the demon let his arm drop and Simon fell silent and motionless to the floor. Sebastian thought it a good time to run. He had just made it back to his new, slightly-used donated station wagon when he noticed the slender man was already sitting behind the wheel. The demon looked directly at Sebastian and threw back his head in a rich, cultured laugh.

Simon did the only thing he could think to do in a situation that defied worldly reason. He prayed. He prayed with all his faith and the demon only laughed harder. Then, unexpectedly, something changed in Sebastian. He didn't know where it came from but a thought occurred to him. Exorcism. He knew the words, he'd always had a good memory for prayers his fellow reverends largely only considered with half an ear. He hastily began the prayer of exorcism and the laughing demon stopped laughing. With a halting cough a wisp of black smoke briefly curled from his lips. Suddenly the demon was standing outside the car reaching for him but Sebastian had nothing to lose and a lifetime of faith behind him. He continued the exorcism. A mere fraction of an inch from touching Sebastian the demon suddenly threw back his head and, accompanied by an unearthly baritone howl started projecting a thick, oily smoke from his mouth. The billowing cloud of evil swirled around them both a moment before tearing off into the trees at the property edge during which the slender man fell, lifeless at Sebastian's feet.

Hours later Sebastian was still trying to correctly recount events to Sheriff Wheaton and Deputy Hall. It was a confused mess. There were the bodies in the front of the house, a tall, dead stranger in the driveway, and Simon la Roche was nowhere to be found. All that remained where he had fallen was a slight char mark on the ground as if a small campfire had been set there and the hint of rotten egg odor. Sebastian had only been in the town a few years now but he had already become well known in the small community and his reputation saved him from suspicion and no more than a cursory questioning by the sheriff and his deputy. Law enforcement was readily able to believe Simon la Roche was behind the murder. Simon had already been the cause of several nasty altercations and law enforcement was ready to believe he had simply fled the scene. It was Sebastian who was still trying to convince them it was more than simply that. In the end everyone chalked it up to the stress of the brutality he stumbled upon. Friends and neighbors mourned, Sebastian learned not to talk of it openly, and the sleepy little town of Donahue eventually returned to normal.

 **==================================================[1993]**

Yes, the current situation had similarities to that time long ago and it was a little unsettling to Sebastian to recall those events. Nonetheless he was steadfast in his purposeful actions as he neared the barn doors. He stopped to take stock of the situation. There was no one obviously nearby not that that was any real guarantee. No unusual sounds from within but there was the still flickering light coming from within. A gentle sniff and there it was; the slight hint of sulphur. With grim determination Sebastian prepared himself to enter. He had trained for and practiced this many times already and hesitation would offer him no help now.

 **=====[1974]==============================================**

Trained? Well, in a manner of speaking. After the events the first time he had made discreet inquiries from superiors within the church. Most of the others gave what amounted to token belief in "demons" but certainly never expected to physically meet one. It just didn't happen even though the texts clearly stated they were real. Right about the time he had been ready to give up entirely a very old, very frail reverend showed up on his doorstep one late evening. The old man could barely walk and looked fragile enough to break away in a strong wind. Once invited in, the old man recounted a tale from his own youth of encounters with demons and befriending someone called a "man of letters" who trained others to hunt demons and suchlike. Alas, he lost touch with his friend in the "men of letters" and subsequently had not heard from them and had no way to contact them. He told Sebastian what he could of demon lore. They weren't corporeal beings but something like a spirit out of Hell. They could possess people and take over their body. Exorcisms worked for that but you had to be quick or restrain them so they didn't hurt you first. Holy water burned them. Salt was a barrier to them. It wasn't much but it was a start. Unfortunately the frail old man didn't last long. Word had reached him of Sebastian's questions and he used the last of his energy on this mortal coil finding Sebastian to pass along his meager store of knowledge on the topic knowing that it was critical someone else knew the truth of things. Just over a week later the kindly old man died peacefully in his sleep knowing this knowledge hadn't died with him.

Thus began a years long quest that ultimately led Sebastian to the hunters. He never did find anything about "men of letters" and none of the hunters he met knew anything about that either. They did know monsters. They turned out to be a rather secretive lot, often gruff, but well-meaning. They were like a secret army in a secret war sacrificing their own well-being to protect an unknowing civilization who would never know enough to thank them for their sacrifice. Sebastian wasn't ruthless enough to hunt other monsters and even questioned if some of the things others hunted should even be counted as "monsters" but, for him, demons were a cut and dry case. All the lore, his faith, and his own experiences had taught him that demons were pure evil and he had the tools to deal with them. He helped other hunters when he could and he was a ready source of holy water when there was need (always convenient when you could make more at a moments notice) and he often acted as a call-center for various hunters who trusted him more than each other. He made connections. He learned. He made sure his little region of Iowa was entirely demon free. Whenever there were signs of demon activity he handled it and he handled it better and better each time. Sometimes he learned the hard way but his faith held true and had always seen him safely to the other side of a fight.

 **==========[1976]=========================================**

One such fight, more or less the fifth demon he encountered, taught him a valuable lesson. He had entered a small country home off the main road into town to face what he knew would be a demon. What he hadn't been expecting was the second demon that had been coming around from the back of the house at the time. He was blindsided by a demon bursting in the front door behind him as he attacked the demon inside. He had been riding high on successfully handling the last few demons he'd faced and the surprise attack from behind nearly cost him his life. It was a quick and brutal reminder of the perils of arrogance. He was still just a mortal facing off against immortals after all. In the end he won that fight, narrowly, but spent several days in the hospital for a reported "fall down a set of stairs" that broke several ribs and his left arm. He still had a plate in his arm as a reminder of that event.

 **==================================================[1993]**

This time, before he even crossed the barn door, he had reached into the leather pouch at his side, grabbed a handful of heavy rock salt, and laid a thick trail across the front of the combined doors. It acted as a wall for any demons meaning they weren't about to charge out at him and, if he stepped over, none were coming in behind him. He'd known about using salt but after the encounter that had cost him the broken ribs and left arm he'd also picked up the habit of using salt before he crossed a barrier. No surprises from behind. He'd started out using regular table salt, it was so easily come by, but talks with other hunters had taught him that table salt was light and a stiff breeze alone could ruin his plans. Subsequently he'd started investing in rock salt. To give an excuse for purchasing and storing such large quantities of rock salt he started holding regular home-made ice cream socials for the local families and youth groups. The rock salt doubled for making ice cream and no one questioned why he always had it around. It was "cheaper to buy in bulk and the kids did so love the ice cream socials". He'd also discovered it was a lot easier to clean up the larger chunks of salt if he needed to clean up after the fact than trying to get countless little grains out of floorboard cracks if the sheriff was likely to show up.

The thick band of rock salt in place thoroughly barring the doors to demons, he cautiously looked within. Someone sat in a chair, a man apparently, with his back to the door as he held a marshmallow on a stick over a small fire. Opposite something small wriggled feebly on the ground. A small child? He couldn't be sure. Sebastian didn't see anyone else within but that didn't mean there wasn't someone on either side of the doors just waiting for him or up in the loft. Caution was always warranted. Still, he had some experience in dealing with such surprises.

 **==============================[1986]=====================**

About seven years back he'd gone on an extended trip down to Tennessee to help out a trio of hunters dealing with a fairly sizable demon problem. Sebastian had made a name for himself hunting demons. If something else turned up in or near Donahue he called in other hunters to handle it but if demons were involved the other hunters called on him. On that particular trip things went pear-shaped rather unexpectedly when it turned out the demons were actually expecting him to come and had planted lesser demons as guards on both sides of the door to the factory they were holed up in. The other hunters had gone to come in through two other entrances so Sebastian was alone at the front door when it happened. He stepped over his line of salt only the feel their strong hands grab both of his arms and attempt to restrain him. They both let out shouts of surprise and pain and immediately let go. Their grip had hurt but not done any permanent damage and Sebastian simply stepped backwards through the door before they recovered. He had the super-soaker with him then, too. It was primed and he loosed a stream of pressurized holy water onto the stunned demons even as he started intoning the prayer of exorcism. He managed to exorcise the two demons that attempted to grab him but the third that had been acting as bait inside made a break for the back of the warehouse.

Fortunately the the other hunters had already been inside, had seen what happened and took care of the demon that happened to be fleeing in their general direction. Unfortunately they had killed the host body in the process; something Sebastian took care to avoid if at all possible. When they asked how he had fended off the two much stronger demons who grabbed him he smiled and explained that he washed his garments in holy water. It wouldn't outright stop a demon but just imagine grabbing a recently burning brand. It won't really hurt you much but the heat momentarily gives you every impression you're about to feel serious pain. The demons, feeling the residual touch of holy water infusing the garments, were often stunned. That was enough to give him an edge.

 **==================================================[1993]**

Counting on his holy water washed garments to give him a slight edge if it was needed Sebastian took a deep, quiet breath and prepared to step over the threshold to face whatever was within. Right before he crossed the threshold the voice of long-missing Simon la Roche came from where the man before the small fire was roasting marshmallows.

"Father Sebastian, it's been a long time, hasn't it? Do, please come in but before you make any hasty decisions please consider the safety of the child across from me."

Sebastian wasn't one for cursing but a gentle oath sprang to mind as he accepted that it was a child across from the fire and knew he would give his own life if need be to spare an innocent. He kept the holy water laden super-soaker trained on Simon but didn't pull the trigger. He took that fateful step across the threshold. There were no other demons in the room ready to jump him; just Simon, the child, and the strong scent of sulphur. Whatever Simon had been before he sure smelled like a demon now.

Simon dropped the stick with the marshmallow into the fire, stepped across the small fire, and reached out slowly but firmly for the child. As he turned and the firelight lit him Sebastian saw that Simon hadn't aged a day. "Sebastian, so wonderful to see you again. How long has it been for you, hmm? Twenty or so years? You know, I envy you that. It's been a lot longer for me. So very much longer."

Sebastian didn't say anything. He only watched warily as Simon loosed the rope restraints on the child but didn't release the child. He had no idea how Simon could be here now and unaged after twenty years. Nothing of the lore he'd come across explained that but the child still came first. Get the child to safety then deal with Simon.

"Come now Father Sebastian, nothing to say? You were there the day I began my ascension to power. You were honored whether you knew it or not. My mentor, may he rot eternally, told me everything that happened after I fell."

"Simon, let the child go. We can talk after."

"No, Sebastian. You see, I have a task, then I'm free. All this power and no more restraints. None that matter, anyhow. You see, you've gotten yourself noticed. You've achieved quite a reputation in certain circles. Azazel himself chose me out to come deal with you. He has plans he doesn't want you interfering with."

"Simon, just let the child go and I'll do what you want. Please."

Simon laughed. "I'm no fool. I may have power now, far more than you can conceive, but I won't underestimate you like those other fools have. You've too many tricks old man. No, I won't even come near you."

With that Simon pulled a sleek pistol out from where he had it tucked in in the waistband of his pants. It was a stupid way to carry a gun, prone to injuring the wielder or being dropped, but perhaps a demon didn't have to worry about such things. In fact, most demons relied on their superior strength, speed, and tricks. This was something new and Sebastian wasn't prepared for something so mundane as a thug with a gun. Simon fired twice and pain exploded through Sebastian's left leg as he crumpled.

Sebastian didn't know how badly he was injured but he knew he hurt. He hurt a great deal. There was a lot of blood and it was flowing out far too fast. Artery? It must have hit his femoral artery. He didn't have long. He had nothing left to lose. He made his decision and did the only thing he could while laying nearly prone twenty feet away from a demon. Sebastian let loose with his supertanker and silently prayed the child would be spared. His aim was true and the new, battery-powered super-soaker unleashed an unbroken torrent of water straight into Simon's face. Sebastian heard more than saw the gun hit the floorboards and once again, nearly twenty years after the first time he'd heard it, he heard Simon's screams of tormented pain.

Simon's scream continued even as Simon's demonic spirit fled the quickly charring remains of Simon's body. The body fell forward into the small fire even as the roiling, noxious smoke that was demonic Simon lunged forth into the small child that was attempting to flee. The poor child never had a chance against a spirit as strong as Simon's had become. Fortunately Sebastian was expecting this. He immediately began the exorcism rite finally freeing the child with the last of his strength before blacking out.

He never saw that the child was saved but he had faith and his last, silent prayer was answered. He never saw the angel that strode in, picked up the unconscious child, and carried it safely to rest by an apple tree outside. For poor Sebastian Gael it was too late as he finally bled out on the floor of a barn bringing closure to the lives of both Sebastian and Simon.

 **====[EPILOGUE]====**

Attendance at the funeral service was excessive. Simon had touched nearly every life in Donahue. The scandal of it all had would last for weeks with people trying to figure out who the charred corpse in the fire had been. Trying to figure out why anyone would have killed father Sebastian. The child, a local, was young and too confused by the events to offer clarity. In the end it was only clear that someone, probably an unknown drifter, had shot father Sebastian and father Sebastian had somehow incapacitated his assailant and saved the child. For now, however, there was somber silence broken only by occasional weeping. Mixed amidst the townsfolk were outsiders. Father Sebastian had even touched many lives far beyond his sleepy little town. Mixed amidst the outsiders were several of rougher appearance, often in thick, plaid shirts and sporting scars. No one was sure who they were but they were very respectful of the service and the locals accepted them as one of the many folk father Sebastian had helped.

Hours later, shortly after full sunset, a tall, brown haired man in a brown jacket stepped up to the fresh grave. He was the first to arrive but he waited. There would be others. Shortly two more hunters arrived. John Winchester didn't know them but hunters could usually recognize each other pretty quickly. There was a look and a feel to them. Dangerous and ready to respond to danger. He nodded to them and they nodded back. Slowly more and more hunters filtered in. In the end John counted twenty-four hunters. These would be just the ones who were nearby and managed to get news of Sebastian's death which meant there were many more out there still. John hadn't even realized there were so many hunters actively working that there would even be this many in close proximity. It spoke of grim times ahead if there were this many hunters all active at once. That, however, was a concern for the future.

For now the hunters honored Sebastian the way they knew how. They each took a brief turn disinterring his remains. John had arrived first so he had the honor of dousing the remains in gas and salt then igniting them to ensure the remains would lay to rest. No ghosts nor anything bad would arise from Sebastian Gael's remains. A true hunter's funeral for him. As he watched the remains burn John took a flask from the inner pocket of his jacket, raised it in salute to a fallen companion, and took a long pull from the single malt scotch inside. Many other flasks and bottles had been similarly raised in salute. No one spoke. The silence was a more eloquent testimony to Sebastian than any words they would have spoken.

The hunters stood silent vigil broken only by the sound of the flames slowly burning down and the occasional creak of a leather jacket or boots as hunters shifted their stance. When the flames had died they reburied the remains. Donahue would never know what had happened here this night. The hunters slowly trickled away, some in small groups, some alone. John was neither the first nor the last to leave but he left a small part of himself behind with yet another friend buried. There was nothing more for him to do here and he had two young boys to get home to.

Sebastian's final legacy was in the lives he had saved. Many, many lives. In the end, through unspoken agreement, Donahue picked up an ever-shifting contingent of hunters. There were seldom more than two or three in town at a time but whenever they left someone else came to replace them. Monsters learned to fear and avoid Donahue, Iowa and the sleepy little town remained ever after a sleepy little town untroubled by the monsters of the wide world outside.


End file.
